Running Up that Hill
by Landing In London
Summary: Dean gets a visitor on a quiet evening at home. Dean/Jo. Rated for slight language. R&R. Oneshot.


This is just something small I had to write. I absolutely loved Jo, she was always my favorite character, and even though I love Lisa I feel like she is still in the back of Dean's mind. She's always in the back of mine at least haha. Wrote this at one AM so I don't really know how good it is, I might hate it when I re-read it in the morning, but at least tell me what you think :)

I own no characters and have no claims to the Supernatural storyline.

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The music was soft, the lights were softer. Ben was in bed, and Lisa was curled comfortably up against Dean, the empty wine glass in her hand tipping slightly as her eyes slid closed.

Dean sighed with contentment and kissed the top of her head. Soon they would go upstairs, curl up together under a heavy comforter, and he would fall asleep with her head on his chest, his hand protectively at her waist, because he was sure something would try to snatch her from him in the dead of night. This was their ritual, and he found himself rather fond of it. Some nights they would make love, but they didn't have to. Having her close to him was enough to remind him of how ordinary his life had become, how peaceful. This was his prize for besting the devil, and he claimed it proudly. A woman who loved him, a boy he could play catch with, a bed he could call his own, and fall asleep in every night - it was heaven like he had never known.

A noise came from the kitchen, and the hairs on the back of Dean's neck prickled nervously. A prowler? Or something worse. Careful to disturb Lisa as little as possible, he stood and walked across the room, unlocked the bottom drawer of the wooden cabinet in the corner and withdrew his trusted pistol. The noise came from the kitchen again.

With a few long, noiseless strides, Dean found himself at the swinging kitchen door. He drew a deep breath, then bounded through it, gun aimed at -

Nothing.

No one was there.

"Hi Dean."

Dean swung around on his heels towards the voice, and froze. His weapon didn't falter, still aimed to kill, but it didn't fire either. His first instinct was to shoot whatever creature was in front of him, playing with his mind, tearing at his heart, showing him what he was seeing. But he could never shoot that face.

"Jo?"

A smile spread across Jo's face, that genuine, glowing, toothy smile she always saved for him. "It's been a long time, Dean."

"You can't be real." Both hands were around the pearl handle of his pistol. "You're dead."

"Of course I'm dead. But I'm not going to hurt you. Do you mind putting that thing away?"

Dean lowered the gun but didn't put it down, or take his finger off the trigger. "Why are you here?"

Jo shrugged and took a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Just thought I'd pop in and say hello. I've been watching you. Things are so different now, I want to make sure you're okay."

Nothing that Dean knew about the afterlife explained how Jo could be sitting in his kitchen right now, but there she was. Her eyes were watching him with that sparkling combination of interest and understanding that he had grown to know so well, and her lips were perched in a smirk that told him she was waiting for him to cool off and take a seat next to her. Against all logic, he did, setting the gun on the table next to them.

"How is this happening?"

Jo tilted her head to the side. "Does it matter?"

Dean laughed despite himself. "No. I guess if anyone could fuck with the rules of heaven it would be you. God Jo…it's so good to see you. You won't believe what's happened since you've been gone."

Jo gave him a sad smile and nodded. "I know, Dean."

"He's dead. Sam's dead. Well as good as dead."

"But you beat Lucifer. Everything we were fighting for. What me and Mom died for. Bobby gave up his legs, Cas gave up his wings….all of it, all of it was for this. You did the impossible, you won."

"But the price, Jo. It haunts me every day. Every second I spend here, and alive, and happy, I feel like I don't deserve it. Sam deserves this so much more than me. Sam lost so much more…"

"You'll never change will you? Sam would want you to be happy, you know that. He told you to go after this. And now you have it." Jo gave a long glance towards the living room. "She's really beautiful."

"She's incredible. And I am happy. I am. Are you happy, Jo?"

"As happy as a dead girl can be." Jo laughed and looked down at her lap. "I wish I could help you find peace, Dean. That was always what I wanted. To be the one to bring you peace."

Dean really wished he had a beer to take a long swig from, but he settled for shaking his head. "I don't think that will ever happen for me."

"Are you bored?"

Dean smiled. "I thought I would be. But no. This is a good life. Sometimes I do miss a good fight though."

"If I couldn't help you, I at least would have fought beside you. We were a real team, you and me."

"Yeah, we were one hell of a team. Until we started putting each other before the job."

"That was your problem with Sam, too."

"I guess I just love too much."

Jo laughed and rose to her feet. "I should probably go. I interrupted your evening. I just needed to see that you were doing all right…that she was taking good care of you. First hand, you know? I've never been one for sitting on the sidelines."

"Jo." Dean took a step towards her and hesitated before taking her hair in his hands and resting his forehead against hers. "Jo, I am so sorry. I'm sorry you had to die. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. You were the bravest woman I ever knew."

Jo looked up into Dean's eyes and was taken aback to see the tears there. "Right back atcha, soldier."

Dean's breath was shaking as he captured her lips with his. She was warm, warmer than a ghost should be. Their last kiss had tasted like sweat, and blood, and fear, and goodbye. The room had smelled like gunpowder, and the tears had tainted their moment. Now Jo could press her body against him, pull at his gray t-shirt and weave her hand through his hair. They kissed frantically until their lungs gave out, and Jo finally pulled away, tears now threatening to fall from her eyelashes as well.

"Dean Winchester," she sighed, her head shaking slightly from side to side. "Dean…"

"Jo I -"

"No." Jo pressed her fingers to Dean's lips. "Don't say it. Let me go without that weight on my shoulders. Just promise me something?"

"Sure, of course."

"Live well. Be happy. You deserve that Dean, no one would deny you your happiness. Enjoy that now, because it might not last for much longer."

"What does that mean?"

"Goodbye Dean." Jo placed a kiss on Dean's forehead and was gone.

Dean woke up with a start. Lisa's head was on his chest, his arm was around her waist. They were safely in their own bed, and the house was appropriately silent. Dean felt his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh. The angels, they always visited him in his dreams.

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R&R :)


End file.
